Can’t Beat A Bit Of Bully

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Sundays, eh.  Yeah I know it’s not a Sunday, but still.  Sundays.  Back in my younger youth I wasn’t too aware of the quality of certain things and was a lot more naive to the ways of the world and whole heap less cynical than nowadays.  So on those Sundays a pattern was set that I remember fairly clearly.  Dinner would happen sometime after 3pm and it would be a good dinner.  As soon as that was done it was the countdown.  We knew we’d be going to church for sometime around 6pm, but the deal was to leave as late as possible, because Bullseye was on and hey – you cannot beat a bit of Bully.

What particularly inspired the reminiscing was as my first-born Deborah went upstairs to take some hot coffee for her mother.  I was all Tony Green with her telling her to take it easy, take her time, etc. etc.  I only left out the bit that she needs 101 or more to win Bully’s star prize, and lo the inspiration came forth.  I mean just check out the way the brother eases the contestants into it and that great mathematical mind of his to tot up the scores that quickly and get us excited when the goal is reached.

Likewise check his equanimity even when there is no way on earth that the target is going to be reached.  Just giving us what the score is and then consoling them when their gamble goes horribly wrong.  Of course this was an old episode and I’m certain as time went on he helped to ratchet up the tension some more, even as he was calmly informing the contestant at the same time.  That’s a gift.  That among other things made Bullseye must-see TV, especially before nipping off to a church service that wouldn’t be as interesting or as exciting.

Yes siree – Sundays. Enjoy.

Shalom

dmcd

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2 thoughts on “Can’t Beat A Bit Of Bully

    […] hear from me from him.  I was minding my own business though, the other day and was just enjoying my little thing on Bullseye.  You would believe that from that through the winding road of other clips I came across this one […]

    […] couple of years ago I shared how my dear daughter Deborah inspired a fond reminiscence of my love of Bullseye. Of late I’ve been watching the thing again and  it occurs to me that there is a difference […]

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